The Devil Made Me Do It
by kekame
Summary: Missing scenes from season 7, hints of all the fun slashy pairings, but mostly I wrote it like it was an episode of the show; angsty with bits of humor thrown in. Enjoy my unofficial NaNoWriMo project! :)


**CHAPTER 1**

**SAM**

"God bless the sweet California college girls, am I right, Sammy?" Dean slapped Sam on the knee and then leaned out the window to smile and wave at the girls who'd just washed the Impala.

Sam nodded dismissively. "Right, but we're in Oregon."

"No matter." Dean had just met his three new favorite blonds from whatever state this was. The front of his shirt was still soaked from having rolled in the soap suds with them for the last hour and 33 minutes. Something big was happening up north and now they were behind schedule. Sam stared out the window into the pink and purple dusk as the car rolled onto interstate five until he was sure he wouldn't snap at Dean for wasting time on dumb, probably under-aged girls. Then he cleared his throat and opened his laptop and began summarizing his findings.

"So there's been a series of freak thunderstorms around Seattle, I'm thinking demons are involved, but there's something else too. What's being reported as wild animal attacks is probably—"

Dean waved Sam quiet. "Aww come on, Sam, that stuff can wait awhile, we're a whole day's drive away. Fill me in later."

Dean was driving the speed limit, so he was obviously in a fantastic mood, completely oblivious to Sam's irritation. Sam just wanted to be on the way, but he had the feeling Dean was about to suggest they stop. Again.

"You know what? Let's stop in this little town up here for the night. We could go hit a local bar or grab some food since we'd be stopping early? What do you say? I bet those cheerleaders could use a fun night, we could go pick them up?"

Sam groaned. It had been like 2 miles since the car wash, and now Dean even wanted to back track that much. They were never going to get anywhere.

"Can we please just go? We have a job to do. Big things are happening up north of here, and we should be there."

Dean's mood suddenly soured. "Look at you. All work, no play. Do you remember when you did things not because they were world-endly important, but because they were fun? Don't forget to stop and take a breather sometimes." Sam heard the unspoken words too. _Every job we do could be our last, Sam._

Sam rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Dean, I'm fine, I just want to get moving. I take plenty of breathers, I just blow off steam in different ways than you." _At least one of us has grown out of wanting to fuck teenagers._ Sam thought, but didn't say.

Despite a grimace of disappointment, Dean stayed on the freeway instead of getting off at the exit. "The things I pass up for you." He sighed.

Sam reclined the seat, settling in for a long night of driving. Dean wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily, though.

"You never talk about your Stanford days, but I think you used to have fun back then. You gotta have some crazy stories from Stanford, right? Let's hear some?"

Inevitably this question came up every time Dean stopped at a cheerleader car wash, a bikini barista, or a scuzzy bar. Sam never knew how he was supposed to answer. If he said college was great, Dean might start feeling guilty for coming back into his life. If he said he didn't miss it at all, Dean would start worrying about him. After finally convincing Dean he was no longer seeing Lucifer, he wasn't anxious to go back to everyone walking on eggshells around him again. He preferred to just avoid the question.

"I dunno Dean, it was a long time ago."

Dean went on for some time about how he didn't understand why anyone would go to college if it weren't for the sexual exploits and the crazy parties. Did Sam try any experimental drug while he was there?

"Really Sam? Not even weed? Not even once?!"

"No! I didn't have any weird sex. I didn't try any weird drugs"

"Geeze grandma, don't get your panties in a bunch, I was just asking." Unsaid Sam could hear,_ Maybe you studied all the time like a dweeb, but at least you seemed happy then. What happened to that happy kid brother of mine? I happened. If I cared about you, I never should have shown up to Stanford._

Dean had these sorts of thoughts, not terribly far beneath the surface if you knew him well enough. Sam wasn't going to acknowledge the unspoken parts until Dean explicitly brought them up. Which he wouldn't. They both knew what the other was thinking, but if you didn't have the guts to address it directly, there was always plausible deniability. The car rolled on in silence. Dean liked to take the weight of everyone else's problems onto his shoulders. He then proceeded to worry about those problems as a way of avoiding his own. When that wasn't enough he drowned them at the bottom of a bottle or hid them in the darkness of a smoky bar. Sam was aware that avoidance was Dean's modus operandi, but had long since grown out of trying to call him on it. The psychology pre-law degree was far behind him. It felt like another life.

After a sudden thumping noise behind him, Sam whipped his head to look at Lucifer who had suddenly appeared in the back seat. Sam sucked in a breath, mentally kicking himself for not catching his reaction in time, as Dean noticed his sudden movement. Lucifer had recently taken to long periods of absence, making it that much more jarring when he did decide to show up.

Lucifer laxadaisically stared out the window, nearly spacing off as he spoke. "He's right you know? You do never talk about those days. You know he depends on you, and you know it'd kill him to know what you were up to at Stanford. Or are you worried you'd prove that he was right all along that you abandoned your family?"

Sam ignored Lucifer. He put on an unconvincing attempt at a non-chalant shrug.

"I thought I saw a deer." He lied lamely.

Dean gave Sam a hard glare. Lucifer chuckled. "You're always so happy to see me. Aren't you even going to ask me what I've been up to?" He went on without waiting for a reaction. "I know what you're headed into."

Sam proceeded to ignore Lucifer until he heard, "because you know it isn't demons in Seattle, right? And I know what it is. Don't you want to know?"

Sam pursed his lips. "I'm fine, Dean." He knew his reaction was too slow, but he tried to keep a calm face. "Can't hit Bambi right?"

Lucifer leaned forward, whispering in Sam's ear. "It's angels, Sam." Sam tried not to squirm at the proximity. "It's a big deal. Seems someone's in a bit of a mess."

Sam was trying to turn his attention to Dean, who was telling him that there was no deer.

"Your dear friend Castiel is on trial."

Sam glared at Lucifer by way of the rear view mirror. To both Dean and Lucifer he asked, "and how do you know that?"

Lucifer sighed. "I'm a fallen angel myself, Sam. I know a trial proceeding when I see one. Those murders aren't wild animals like your police report says, they're virgin sacrifices. The whole of heaven must witness destruction of God's innocent creations. That's why there's been death on such a scale. Every angel in attendance will weep tears for those deaths, and they will blame it all on Castiel. The system is a little rigged. My brothers need to revel in self-righteousness, because it's all they have."

Lucifer gave Sam a long, sad look, and then was gone as quickly as he'd come. Meanwhile, Dean screeched the Impala to a halt. He turned to glare at Sam.

"Shit." Sam cursed at the whole situation.

"What the hell is going on?" Dean demanded. "I thought we were done lying to each other?!"

Absurdly it occurred to Sam at that moment that he should tell Dean that sleeping with under-aged girls could now possibly save their lives. He shook he head and instead said, "I think Cass might be in trouble. Step on it. Now."


End file.
